


R Is for Regret Too

by Blacktablet (Ishamaeli)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Experimental Typography, Gen, Implied Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-21
Updated: 2012-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-29 22:09:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/324695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ishamaeli/pseuds/Blacktablet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is shot and for the first time in his life, Sherlock acts without thinking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	R Is for Regret Too

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Sherlock and John in their current incarnation belong to Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss who, I’ve been told, were funded by BBC.

John is bleeding heavily on the concrete.

Sherlock has murder on his mind.

U is for you (obviously)  
R is for rage (his)  
D is for dead (dead dead dead, it’s like his mind is a broken record)  
E is for epiphany (also his)  
R is for regret too (definitely his, and all-consuming in its magnitude)

M is for Moriarty, M is _always_ for Moriarty; Sherlock wishes there was a J in murder, J for John, but ‘jurder’ sounds too ridiculous to be taken seriously and Jesus _Christ_ , does blinding grief always make people this stupid? he wonders.

He turns into yet another dark alley in hot pursuit and observes the ripples in a puddle of water.

 _(he ran this way, must be heading for the tube)  
(you’re not getting away)  
(not this time)_

Lestrade watches Sherlock run after the man who shot John and doesn’t say a word. Tomorrow he will call, ask his questions, and Sherlock will for once pretend not to know anything even though this time he knows _everything_.

(the number of bullets, the model of the gun, the colour of the stain on the victim’s right shoe)

(the precise location of the murderer at any given moment)

Lestrade will pretend to believe him because while he is only a mediocre Detective Inspector, he is a good man. Sherlock observed the way he clenched his jaw shut to prevent himself from making a sound, the way he was as pale as a sheet at the crime scene; remembered that John had recently got into the habit of having a pint with Lestrade every now and then.

(was, had, used to; he is beginning to hate the past tense)

It doesn’t matter that Moriarty is running. Sherlock is more cold and calculating than he has ever been - he is _angry_. The man with the heart has been destroyed, brought to ruin. Only the machine remains to observe and deduce without erring. Moriarty thinks that he has won their game by taking Sherlock’s rook, that there is no option for him anymore but to lose eventually, but in Sherlock’s mind Moriarty is already dead.

They will lie in the mortuary side by side, John Watson and the man who killed him, and there will be certain sort of justice in that, Sherlock decides as he reaches the tube station, steps off the edge of legal and falls into criminal with a serene expression on his face.

(he doesn’t mind the gap at all)

Moriarty's face is blurry in front of him, expression approaching something like shocked, but Sherlock's hand is steady when he raises John's service weapon and takes aim. He pauses when he notices that thinking about John doesn’t hurt, surprisingly; it just _numbs_ him.

Oh, well. He will need the numbness.

On the gurney, John opens his eyes and asks for Sherlock.

“What do you _mean_ , ‘he ran off’?”

The ringtone of his mobile is loud; the gunshot is louder.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sherlock watches dully as Moriarty disappears around the corner. He knows that he can't chase after the man any longer - he has been sapped of energy - he wants nothing but his nicotine patches ( _his cocaine, oh God, how he craves it_ ) and to be alone. His phone keeps ringing; he pulls it out of his coat pocket with nerveless fingers, ready to curse Lestrade seven different shades of blue for interrupting him at such a crucial moment.

Fondly, "You realise you're an idiot, right?"

(J is for _joie de vivre_ ) 


End file.
